


Tick-Tock

by missdibley



Series: Conversation Hearts [7]
Category: British Actor RPF, Irish Actor RPF, Michael Fassbender - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Jealousy, London, Michael Fassbender - Freeform, Romance, Single Parents, Time Travel, Valentine's Day, single parent, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:05:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day used to be Esme Grey's favorite holiday when she was with Tom Hiddleston. But how does she feel about it now that they're no longer together and she has moved on with Michael Fassbender?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick-Tock

_Make me confused, mock me with praise_  
_Let me be used, vary my days_  
_But alone is alone, not alive!_  
Stephen Sondheim, “Being Alive”

* * *

“Mum?”

I looked down when Charlie squeezed my hand. He grinned up at me, looking like a jack o’ lantern with his missing front teeth. He had my nose and mouth, my dark eyes, but his father’s long lashes (thank god) and curly hair.

“Yes, darling?” I said in my snootiest voice.

Charlie laughed. “Why is Daddy meeting us here?”

“So you can buy groceries so when you go to his house you can cook supper.”

“Right.”

My little boy turned his attention to the sliding door of the Whole Foods, taking in every single person that walked through. Young couples bickering over their lists. Single girls who come in to flirt with the cute guys who work with the produce. Parents with their children, just like me and Charlie. Just the usual mix of folks who inhabited our pseudo-bohemian corner of London.

Tonight a lot of our fellow customers were buying flowers and organic chocolate, scooping up bottles of sparkling wine before heading out to celebrate the holiday. Once upon a time, Valentine’s Day had been a reason to be happy. Then it wasn’t. It is again, ever since I had Charlie. But it’s not quite the same. Not like before.

Not like when his father still loved me.

“Daddy!”

Charlie dropped my hand to run over to his dad. My ex gave him a tight hug, planting kisses all over our son’s sweet face. Lifting him up, he carried our boy over to say hello. Charlie’s smile was wide enough the dimples in his cheeks showed beautifully.

Tom’s smile was less so.

“Hey Es.”

“Hi.” I leaned in so we could air kiss.

“Dad!”

Tom smiled. “Yes, Charlie?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“What? Mum’s name?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t you say it like Ezz? Her name is said like Ezzzzz Meeeee.”

“Should I?” Tom tried to catch my eye but I ignored him. I just looked at Charlie.

“It’s alright, Charlie. It’s because my name starts with an E and an S.”

“Esme.” Charlie said it carefully. “Esme Frances Grey.”

“Right.”

“And you’re Thomas William Hiddleston.”

“Yes,” replied Tom.

“And I’m James Charles Grey-Hiddleston.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Mum, were you a Hiddleston too?”

“Ah…” I looked at Tom, hoping he had an answer.

Before he could come up with an explanation (and I tried to recall something from one of the many single parenting books I had read), Michael joined us.

“Charlie!” Michael turned up the brogue in his voice, which never failed to make us laugh. He kissed me before nodding at Tom with a tentative smile. “Tom.”

“Fassbender.”

Michael blanched a bit, then stood up straighter. I smiled up at him.

“Hi Michael!” Charlie beamed at him. “How’s your motorbike?”

“Loud.” He growled, which made my baby laugh.

“Did you ride it here?”

“Of course.” Michael showed off his helmet with a flourish. I glared at Tom when he didn’t bother hiding how he rolled his eyes.

“Mum, are you going to ride on Michael’s bike?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Michael, am I dressed for that?”

I smirked as he ran an appraising eye over me. My peacoat was short enough to show off the ripped, faded jeans I wore over chunky leather boots. The look was less “1970’s Chrissie Hynde kicking ass” and more “2010’s Viv Albertine sipping a craft cocktail”.

“She’s always dressed perfectly for me.”

“You’re sweet.” I kissed Michael on the cheek. When I pulled away, I noticed Tom glaring. _The fucking nerve…_

“Okay, Chipmunk. Give me a kiss.”

Charlie leaned forward and threw his arms around my neck.

“Bye, Mum.” Charlie sat up and looked at me closely. “Mum?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s your valentine?”

There I stood, facing my baby boy with my ex on one side and my maybe boyfriend on the other.

“You are, darling. You’re my valentine.”

“Aw, Mum…” Charlie looked bashful, but didn’t push me away when I kissed him again. He looked at Tom. “Daddy, can we have pudding for dinner?”

“How about we have pudding for pudding and, mac and cheese for supper?”

“Okay.” Charlie gave me a wave over his shoulder as Tom took him to the shopping carts to select one.

“You alright, love?” Michael’s voice was gentle, concerned.

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s fine.” I peered at the stubble on his jaw, imagining what it would feel like brushing up against my face, my neck, and between my thighs.

“Cool. I’ll pull the bike around. Hang on to the helmet.”

As soon as Michael left, Tom came back with Charlie seated in a cart.

“He’s not staying over, is he?” Tom’s voice was low enough that Charlie, who was playing with his dad’s phone, didn’t seem to hear.

“Whose business is it if he does?”

“Charlie’s my son!”

“Yeah, and we’re not together so calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“I thought you liked Michael.”

“When he wasn’t sniffing around you, sure.”

“Be an adult, why don’t you.”

“Fine.” Tom clenched his jaw which, even after all this time, still got me a little hot and bothered. He sighed. “Okay. Sorry.”

“See you in a couple of days.”

“Meet back here?”

“Bring him by the house.”

“Right. Erm. Yeah. Bye.”

“Sure.”

When Tom leaned closer, instead of the usual air kiss he pressed his lips to my temple.

“Es?” He sounded unsure, which was unusual. He’s always been so confident.

“What?”

“Happy anniversary.”

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “You fucking bastard…”

He looked mortified. “I’m sorry, I was just… I didn’t mean…”

Before I could start sobbing, I looked through the sliding doors and saw Michael pulling up to the curb. I shook my head, kissed the top of my son’s sweet head, then ran outside.

When Michael asked me later why my eyes were red, I told him something about being allergic to roses, or perhaps chocolate. Anything to do with Valentine’s Day. That stupid fucking day.


End file.
